Life Without Home
by redrose7856
Summary: Rachel never realized how hard it was to go on, until she had to go on without him. NON ROMANCE, this is Rachel's story after the episode "Trapdoor". Slight possible AU.


**Disclaimer: I do not own "Life". It belongs to NBC.**

**A/N: It sort of irritated me that Rachel just vanished like that, so this is a fic that is Rachel-centric. People seemed to enjoy "Please Don't Die", so I thought they might like this, too. Enjoy! ALSO, I wasn't really clear on whether or not they arrested Roman, but in this they did and he's in jail.**

Rachel sat in the airport, staring blankly out of the window. He'd sent her away. He was sending her to San Diego. _So it's not _too _far away_, she thought, chewing on her thumbnail. Her cuticle tore slightly and she winced, yanking her thumb from her mouth and submerging it in a napkin. She glanced at her cellphone. At least she could _call_ him….if he actually wanted to talk to her, that is. Though why wouldn't he? It wasn't as if anyone would trace the call and come after her, and it was doubtful that he'd be worried about that, Uncle Charlie wasn't _that_ paranoid.

Rachel smiled slightly. The word "uncle" went so well with him. She remembered the mixture of confusion and pleasure that had been on his face when she'd called him that. It seemed so….so…._right_, to call him that again. If only it had lasted. Her smiled grew when she remembered how their "goodbye" had gone:

"_Don't look at me like that," he'd warned when they walked towards the security area. _

"_I don't want to leave," she'd muttered, crossing her arms. _

"_I told you, it's not safe,"_

"_I want to stay with you!" she'd pleaded, stopping. He'd looked back at her and then sighed, setting her bag down. Before she'd gotten the chance to react, he'd hugged her. She'd hugged him back, feeling tears form in her eyes. He and Ted were her last friends! They were the only ones who could even remotely relate to her._

"_I need you to be safe," he whispered._

"I_ need to be with _you_," she answered, her voice muffled by his jacket. _

"_Rachel, listen to me," he'd said, looking at her. "When I found you, I made a promise to myself that I'd protect you. I can't keep you safe here." _

"_But you can by sending me away." _

"_For now, yes," he'd said. She'd stared at him and then hugged him tightly again._

"_I'll contact you once it's safe," Uncle Charlie had assured her. She'd nodded and even managed a tiny smile before grabbing her bag and moving on towards the safety checkpoint. He'd watched her go, looking almost as sad as she'd felt. Rachel tried to be brave. He wanted her to go to San Diego and be safe. She had to……for him._

"Boarding Flight 436 to San Diego," the loudspeaker announced. Rachel sighed and stood up, swinging her backpack onto her shoulder before heading towards the gate.

----------------------------------------------------

Roman Nievkov sat in his cell, staring at the wall. His fists clenched and he felt his nails biting into his skin. He glared at the guard, thinking about the policeman who had put him in there: Crews. _I will make you pay, Crews,_ he vowed.

A janitor walked over, glancing at him. Roman stood up and walked over to the bars, leaning against them as if to stretch his legs. After looking both ways to ensure the guard was gone, he reached into a pocket of the janitor's coveralls and pulled out a scrap of paper. Returning to his cot, he unfolded it and read it silently:

_Crews is taken care of. We are going after the girl._

Roman smiled. Soon, revenge would be his.

-------------------------------------------------

Rachel watched the runway get closer as the plane descended. She looked over at the woman sitting next to her. During takeoff, the woman had babbled on and on about her grandchildren and how she had had such a lovely visit with them. When they'd gotten to cruising altitude, she'd dropped her head on her chest and begun snoring. Now it looked as if she was waking up, ready to tell some other listener about her family.

As soon as the passengers began disembarking, Rachel grabbed her backpack and headed off. As she headed out into the airport, she was surprised to see a man holding a sign reading: _Rachel Parker._ After glancing around to ensure there were plenty of witnesses, she warily approached the man.

"I'm Rachel," she said quietly. He nodded and lowered the sign, glancing around as he grabbed her arm.

"Come on," he murmured, leading her towards the nearest exit. "I'll explain things when we get to the car. Did you check baggage?"

_Déjà vu, _Rachel thought as she shook her head. He nodded once and they kept moving, his blue eyes always scanning the crowd.

Outside, a large black car was waiting for them, its engine already running. The man helped Rachel in, glanced around once more, and then got in himself. Scarcely had the door shut when the car was moving.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked.

"Just taking precautions," the man answered, tossing the sign to the floor. "Drink?"

"No, thank you,"

"Suit yourself. As you've probably already guessed, we were hired by Charlie Crews."

"To do what?"

"Keep an eye on you, ensure your safety, and make sure you're able to make do."

"Meaning?"

"We've set up several job interviews," the man said, pulling out a folder and handing it to her. "All of them are prominent business men."

"Why should that matter?"

"Mr. Crews-!"

"_Detective_," Rachel corrected.

"Detective Crews wanted to ensure that you're safe as well as provided for. He'd want you to be happy."

"He 'would'? Don't you mean he _wants_ me happy? Is he OK? Did something happen?"

"Your first interview is tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp, so you need to be ready."

"Is he all right?"

"The business man?"

"_Uncle Charlie!_" Rachel practically yelled. The man blinked at her and then sighed.

"Detective Crews is in the hospital."

"What? How? When?"

"He was shot last evening in his home."

"_Shot_?" Rachel cried. "I have to get back there! I have to see him! Stop the car!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," the man said, sounding genuinely sorry. Rachel gripped the handle of her backpack and eyed the door handle. As if by magic, the doors locked. "Miss Parker," the man said firmly. "Your safety is my primary objective at the moment. You will not attempt to return to Los Angeles until we receive word that the threat has been eliminated."

"My uncle has been shot," Rachel protested, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes. Almost on impulse, her hand reached up, her thumb already poised for chewing. The man grabbed her hand and gave it a firm but gentle squeeze.

"Listen to me," he said softly. "The men who shot him are probably planning to come after you, too. If you go back, you'll be giving them exactly what they wanted."

"But-!"

"Crews dedicated everything he had to finding and protecting you," the man continued. "Don't let his money go to waste."

Rachel sat back in the car, staring out the window. She chewed thoughtfully on her nail and then pulled out her cellphone, dialing Uncle Charlie's phone. As expected, it went straight to voicemail.

As she shoved the phone back into her backpack, the man handed her a box of tissues. Rachel took them and set them in her lap, blinking hard.

The car pulled over and the man got out, climbing in the front seat to give her some privacy. As soon as he was gone, Rachel curled up in a ball on the seat and cried.

**Hope this isn't too lame! Please don't forget to R&R! **


End file.
